Chapter Six: Amnesia Is a Remarkable Thing

At the same moment, Xiao Kaitian carried the woman in his arms into the main hall. The air conditioner blew gentle warmth around him, and he felt a slight comfort seep through his body.

"Young Master Xiao!" Sun Zhongyi struggled with his injured body; the blow from Zhang Yan had nearly cost him his life. But seeing Xiao Kaitian break through and confront the Ogiwara Corporation head-on rekindled his spirit. He crawled with effort to Xiao Kaitian's feet.

"Young Master Xiao, Miss!" Sun Zhongyi could no longer suppress the grief in his heart; his eyes reddened in an instant.

Xiao Kaitian looked down coldly at the man groveling at his feet, a faint suspicion stirring in his heart. His clear yet hoarse voice carried a trace of frost: "Do you know me?"

Sun Zhongyi's expression froze. The corner of his mouth twitched as he recalled Xiao Kaitian’s ferocious momentum just moments before. Only then did he realize, belatedly, that the man before him seemed not to be the "Xiao Kaitian" he once knew. Forcing a smile, he said, "Young Master Xiao, are you joking? Just a few hours ago you were drinking tea at my place, and you borrowed your car from me."

Xiao Kaitian pressed his lips together, silent. He had no memory of the past and was only just beginning to understand this world. Sun Zhongyi's doubts left him at a loss for how to respond.

Confusion swirled in Sun Zhongyi's mind. He stared at Xiao Kaitian, noticing the dried blood at his hairline and on his shirt. Suddenly struck by realization, he slapped his thigh. "That's it—you were in a car accident and lost your memory!"

Amnesia? Xiao Kaitian found this to be an excellent explanation. He was quite pleased with the solution Sun Zhongyi had offered, and a faint goodwill arose in him. It was a pity Sun Zhongyi hadn't thought further; amnesia could not explain how Xiao Kaitian had suddenly acquired such terrifying strength, enough to kill a Yellow Rank martial artist like Zhang Yan with a single blow.

But for now, Xiao Kaitian could only accept this explanation. Amnesia was a formidable thing indeed.

He placed the woman beside Sun Zhongyi. His divine source had already scanned her body—she was merely unconscious from fright and exhaustion, with no lasting harm.

Then he turned his gaze to the center of the hall, where a woman in a light gray suit, clutching a sword from the island nation, stood poised. Her combat power was 82. An interested smile played on his lips.

Almost simultaneously, the woman in the gray suit met his eyes. Sparks seemed to ignite in the air as their gazes collided, vanishing in a heartbeat.

After discarding the Ogiwara family crest, the men under Ichiro Nakayama’s command had gathered submissively behind her, bowing to her authority.

She was Rin Ogiwara, eldest daughter of the current Ogiwara family head—a princess in her own right. Nakayama would never have imagined that the Ogiwara family would send someone of such lofty status; he had always thought she was just an observer, that dealing with Xiao Kaitian was merely a formality, a game requiring only a token effort. But now, all his previous assumptions had been upended.

Rin Ogiwara was the eldest daughter of the Ogiwara family patriarch, and a mid-level Yellow Rank martial artist. The martial arts of her island nation were distinct from those of Han-Tang, focused more on swordsmanship and the way of the ninja. Here, though, all such disciplines were collectively referred to as martial arts, and practitioners were called martial artists. By strength alone, she was even more formidable than Zhang Yan, who had just acted.

Yet the Ogiwara family had experts even greater than she. As a core member of the family, martial prowess was not her sole focus; managing a family required more than mere strength. It called for skill in administration and organization—a common pattern among great families.

Core descendants learned martial arts but did not specialize in them.

Rin Ogiwara had not come here to kill Xiao Kaitian, but witnessing his devastating sweep through his opponents had stirred her warrior spirit.

He is strong! Exceptionally strong! That was her first instinct. Yet what puzzled her was that, standing before this man called Xiao Kaitian, she could sense none of the energy fluctuations that a martial artist should emanate.

It made no sense.

Had she voiced her confusion, Xiao Kaitian would have scoffed. He hailed from the central axis universe, the highest dimension; his divine source encompassed every law of power. How could beings of such low dimensionality, mere three-dimensional creatures, hope to perceive his strength? And that was precisely why he could discern his opponents’ abilities at a glance.

Here, on this planet called Earth, the four fundamental forces—electromagnetic, weak nuclear, strong nuclear, and gravity—were, to him, but branches of his divine source. What these so-called martial artists wielded was merely a fraction of those basic forces.

From a dimensional perspective, they were pitifully weak.

Yet in his current state, he was not at full strength. The woman before him, with her combat power of 82, was an impressive existence.

"You are Xiao Kaitian, only son of the Xiao family of Han-Tang?" Rin Ogiwara finally spoke.

"It seems so," Xiao Kaitian replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one, the action entirely unconscious, and only after he had done so did he realize he craved it. He was being influenced by the habits of his avatar in this dimension!

"Very well. I am Rin Ogiwara, eldest daughter of the Ogiwara family head. I look forward to working with you." Her words were polite, but her expression betrayed none of the courtesy. "I didn’t expect your island nation’s language to be so fluent."

By now, Rin Ogiwara had completely discarded the intelligence reports her team had provided. A saying from Han-Tang surfaced in her mind: "Facts speak louder than words."

Pragmatism was prized by her people, but the reality before her forced a complete reevaluation. Every piece of intelligence on Xiao Kaitian was likely nothing but a façade.

Xiao Kaitian exhaled a plume of smoke, unwilling to delve into the nature of this avatar. Rin Ogiwara was not someone he could dismiss with a few words. "What is it you want?"

The moment the words left his lips, Rin Ogiwara moved. Her right hand flashed to her sword; a cold gleam split the air.

Draw and strike!

Xiao Kaitian smiled, the cigarette hanging from his lips. A glint of frost flickered in his eyes, but he made no move at all. He let the blade’s chill descend before him.

Everything froze in an instant. Rin Ogiwara’s sword sliced the cigarette from the corner of Xiao Kaitian’s mouth and halted less than five centimeters from his face.

"Why didn’t you dodge?" Rin Ogiwara’s voice was icy.

"Because you had no killing intent," Xiao Kaitian replied, utterly unfazed by the blade before his eyes. He took out his lighter and relit the broken cigarette.

She stared at him, as if trying to see through his very soul. At last, as he exhaled a thin stream of smoke, she withdrew her sword. "Are you really Xiao Kaitian?" she pressed, seeking to confirm her doubts.

"The genuine article," Xiao Kaitian replied, his gaze flicking to the half-burned cigarette smoldering on the tatami, leaving a blackened hole. He gently stamped it out with his right foot.

"Then for this next strike, I won’t hold back." So saying, Rin Ogiwara assumed the stance for a draw-and-strike, her right hand hovering just an inch from her sword hilt.